What are we, a merry band?Or just some folks with time on our handsMums and Dads, Geeks and Techies,Brothers in arms and Sisters of mercies

Do we take it seriously? Eh no, not especiallyHalf our time is spent talking about some ancient recipeFor most of us the game is exactly thatA chance to escape from the better half or the brat

Some of our number think they are the fairer sexBut the rest of us are collecting to buy blindfolds and specsLaugh ye not at the Gilrain Lady Elders despairIt’s not their fault they were dealt less of beauties share

“But what of the blokes?” I hear you all cryWell none of us are Brad Pitt, regardless how hard we tryNo, we all have to face it, there’s nowhere to hideWe can’t be called hunky, just ugly, implied

We have age restrictions, you must be 25And in Drax we have one who was born to the Jive!A sprinkling of ages but no spotty teenagersAll hustle and bustle while using their pagers (This is The Elders Kinship remember!)

No, we are relaxed, calm and sereneComplaining about the price of strawberries and creamThe peace can be broken, of that, there’s no doubtOur leader, she’s a one, she types with a SHOUT!!

No, we’re a happy band, from mixed backgrounds and LandsAll knowing that the game is second to real life’s demandsSo if, in the game, you need a kinship sublimeI promise you’ll not regret giving The Elders your time